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Sunday, September 30, 2012

The Goo of Headmeat Begins to Run

Hey, what's that smell? You can't smell that? That burnt plastic smell? The kind of smell usually accompanied with sparks and smoke and the sad knowledge that the fan that kept you cool for two and a half years in college has finally given up on the hottest night in the existence of hot nights?

Oh, right, that's my brain. Excuse me. I'm typing this one handed with my head tilted to let my gray and wrinkly pour into a empty cup like sap from a spiked tree.

The day job has been keeping me incredibly busy, and my weekends, rather than ram away at a keyboard in my dark office while the Reaper makes his slow but inevitable approach to my doorstep, has been spent mowing the grass, visiting with friends, drinking beer, celebrating my wife's birthday (whoohoo!), and various other activities.

Just today I visited the Most Disappointing Indie Bookstore in America (which I have half a mind to turn into a post sometime in the near future).

I have been, on occasion, working on an illustrated post. I have a few potential blog posts (read: blank documents) with gloriously inspired names like "Blog Post Idea" and "Maybe Write About This?" Flash Fiction has been the only way I've been able to keep myself to the blog lately, and that's because I'm afraid if I can't crank out at least 1000 words a week, my writer brain will seize up like an old pick up left out in the cold and any attempt to access it will result in a lot of futile cranking before the thing splutters, shudders, and dies.

When will this clear up? No idea. I have been able to keep things posts up here by hastily squeezing in a little time between trips out the door on the weekends, but I have some really cool posts I'd like to write if I could just get the time.

That's the State of the Nerdish so far. Once I get some breathing room, I will try to bring you some quality entertainment. Until then...er...LOOK, HAN SOLO SHOOTING THAT GANGNAM HUMPING DUDE IN THE CROTCH!

Edited to add: To those that have commented on my Flash Fiction pieces and haven't seen me commenting on yours, please don't take that to mean that I'm some douche that doesn't care about what you write. I've just been too busy to sit down and read a whole bunch of stories and then come up with decent comments that say something more than "good job!" I hope I can come check out some of your work in the future. I just have to reconfigure my down time a little first.

NaNo Progress

About Me

J. M. Dow's owner pressed the B button, preventing him from evolving into his final form. He's had a fascination with dark, weird things since he was a little kid sneaking into the living room to watch late-night reruns of Tales from the Crypt. He lives in Northwest Arkansas with his wife and weenie dog.